


And Lo, You Grow

by marxist_monke



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: But He Gets Better, F/M, Major character death - Freeform, Man zagreus must have had a difficult adolesence, Meg isn't good at emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28589214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marxist_monke/pseuds/marxist_monke
Summary: Megaera has no need for petty little things like friendships or closeness. It would be convenient if the mater's son could get in through his thick head, instead of continuously falling into her orbit.
Relationships: Megaera/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	And Lo, You Grow

And Lo, You Grow 

At first, Megaera pays little attention to the new Godling disrupting the rhythms of the House. She is not used to children and her work keeps her mostly in Tartarus, so watching him grow up is like assembling pieces of a shattered amphora with missing shards. He’s a crying baby, then a screaming toddler, then a jubilant child. It’s not her business. Nyx seems to like him. She leaves it at that. 

But, as time will prove, Zagreus is not one to be ignored. He actually makes a point to introduce himself to her, in the only genuine attempt of good etiquette she will ever experience from him.  
“You’re Megaera, the Fury, yes? I’m Zagreus. It’s a pleasure, Miss Megaera.” Meg looks up from her drink incredulously. The youth standing in front of her looks about thirteen. He’s got a large gap-tooth grin, the wide space between his two front teeth making him look even younger than he is. One brilliant green eye, the color of fresh grass. And one the master’s red. And he’s horribly scrawny. She’d thought Hypnos had been thin when he’d appeared this age, but young Zagreus is practically emaciated.  
“I know who you are.” She answers. Narrows her golden eyes. Taps a sharp nail against the rim of her glass.  
Zagreus just smiles wider.  
“Oh! Excellent! Well, do you know Master Achilles?” He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet which, huh. Megaera notices he’s scorching the tiles.  
“I know Achilles.” Her tone is guarded. Perhaps this is some kind of practical joke. Alecto had been keen on them when they three had been younger, often subjecting herself or Tisiphone to unpleasant surprises.  
“Well, Master Achilles says you’re one of the finest warriors he’s ever seen wield a weapon in any realm. You have a whip, right?” Despite it coming from an overeager child, Megaera has to stop herself from outwardly preening at the second-hand praise. There are few she respects, and fewer still are mortals. Praise on martial skills from Achilles though...it is a laurel, for certain.  
“Yes, Zagreus. I have a whip. What do you want?”  
“Well, Master Achilles says it’s important to learn to practice against many different opponents and styles of combat if I wish to grow in skill. Would you like to have a practice bout?”  
It takes her by such surprise that she bursts out laughing, starling Dusa as she sweeps. In front of her, Zagreus’ face goes from eager and earnest to dejected in an instant. A twinge of guilt grips at the back of her throat. She banishes it.  
“Maybe when you’re older, little boy.” She finally answers, and flexes her wing menacingly, and gives him a very mean smile. “Now I have to get back to rending the flesh off the rapists and murderers of Tartarus, and I’m sure you have some kind of music lesson to get to. Run along now.” Perhaps she should have given more credence to a child literally raised in the bowels of the underworld, but he doesn’t scare off easily. He does, however, give her an injured glower before slowly trudging off. Megaera snorts and returns to her drink. Young gods are so annoying before they learn their purpose. All the energy and purposelessness of mortals, with all the power of divinity. She doesn’t feel bad about shooing him off. Not at all. 

The next time she sees young Zagreus, he’s gotten taller and put on a bit of muscle but is still painfully thin. He’s following the Lord Hades through the House, jogging to keep up whilst trying to juggle scrolls, tablets, several stacks of paper, and a quill. Lord Hades is moving quickly and speaking in a rushed monotone.  
“Father, please, what was the system for organizing the scrolls again? Alphabetical? Date of death? I was trying not to drop-”  
“Try harder.” Hades replies dispassionately. “Ah. Megaera. Zagreus, take note of someone who’s actually competent at their job. Report, Megeara.” Besides his father, Zagreus practically wilts like a sun-starved flower. Megaera ignores him and folds her hands behind her back.  
“Lord Hades. My sisters and I went forth to fetch the soul of the Oathbreaker and Murderer, Oedipus. Unfortunately, Lord Apollo interfered on his behalf and has sought Lord Zeus's command to stay our hand. We were forced to withdraw.”  
Hades pounds furiously on his desk.  
“Insolence! That the Olympians would think to tell me how to run this realm they dare not even tread near! Boy! Begin drafting a letter in regards to this mortal at once!” He rounds on Zagreus, who startles and drops the tablet he’d been trying to balance at the top of the stack. It shatters on the ground. The Great Hall goes silent, holding its breath. Even the ever-present murmurs of the ghosts go quiet.  
“Useless boy!” Hades finally bellows, and thunders off, in the direction of the records room. “Your lessons are canceled until that tablet is as it was!” He calls over his massive shoulder. Zagreus stands stock still, shoulders raised defensively almost up to his ears. His chin quivers but his eyes are dry. Megaera sees a hint of rage furrowing his brow, but the prince has the good sense to bite his tongue. A moment later the door to the records rooms slams shut.  
“Here.” Megaera finally offers, half out of exasperation, half out of pity. She takes the stack of reports from his thin arms and neatly lowers them to the floor.  
“Oh. Thank you.” Zagreus sounds surprised. He smiles shyly at her. Oh, absolutely not.  
“A third of the documents in that stack are my reports on punishments from Tartarus. I’d hardly want him thinking I’m not capable because you lost my reports.” She fires back. Zagreus’ smile breaks from a small thing into an outright grin.  
“No, actually I think you like me.”  
“I-what?” She hisses. Zagreus laughs and bends to begin picking up pieces of the shattered tablet.  
“Admit it Megaera. I’m charming. He grins up at her. The gaps in his teeth have filled in.  
“You are not” she growls “Charming.” She kicks his stack of papers over on the way back to the lounge and spends the rest of her time off seething into her drink. 

Nyx does not often betray any emotion other than calm. The goddess of the night typically embodies it perfectly- cooly collected, utterly impassive. An enigma. Which is why it is so rare to see worry on her foster mother’s brow.  
“Lady Nyx?” She asks hesitantly. Even before Lord Hades, Megaera is certain in her role of soldier and interrogator. In front of Nyx… there is a part of her that will always be a feral child, brought in from the cold.  
“Megaera.” Nyx’s voice is the echo of a thousand stars, each lonely in the sky.  
“Is something the matter?” She asks. Nyx turns her head towards the door to Tartarus, almost beseechingly.  
“Zagreus,” Nyx explains. “He’s gone out into Tartarus. Looking for Thanatos, I believe. Lord Hades forbade it, but his lessons with Achilles have given him the confidence to defy his lord father. I am concerned that ill will befall him.”  
“Fool,” Megaera growls and unfurls her wing. “I’ll retrieve him. Don’t worry.”

She finds him in Tartarus. He’s bleeding, red, mortal, blood from a cut to his forehead. Around him, the remains of several wretches of the underworld writhe on the floor. He’s smiling triumphantly, a bronze xiphos resting on his shoulder.  
He’s filled out too. She doesn’t mean to notice it, but he’s clearly been taking his training seriously, having put on muscle. When she alights at his side, she also notices for the first time that he’s become a good deal taller than her. How irritating.  
“Enough running about.” She snaps at him. “You’ve worried Nyx.”  
“Oh!” He looks over at her in surprise. For a moment she feels something flutter inside her chest, like the wings of a baby bat. He’s grown up quite handsome- high cheekbones, delicate, upturned nose, long lashes. It’s not what she’d have expected of the awkward child who used to stumble about the House.  
“Well damn. I truly didn’t mean to worry Nyx. I told her I was only going out to check up on Than. He’s been absent so often lately, I just wanted to make sure he’s alright.”  
Meg scoffs at that.  
“And what could possibly stop the god of death about his duties? Something you think you could handle?” She asks. Zagreus gestures with the point of his sword to the dozen or so undead lying at his feet.  
“I’m not Achilles, but I’m not exactly helpless, thank you. Besides” his voice goes more somber, “Hypnos told me the story of Sisyphus recently. He hasn’t been back for a bit. I’m just concerned, is all.”  
And with that, her anger at him melts away. She tries to clutch at her irritation, but it flows away like water grasped in a fist.  
“Thanatos is fine.” She reassures him. It comes out colder than she meant, but the sentiment is there. “There’s a war on the surface. Olympus knows why the mortals insist on making their short lives shorter, but it keeps him busy. Now, are you going to come home, or shall I drag you?”  
Zagreus bows elegantly. Mockingly. Megaera snorts.  
“Well, by all means, lead the way, Lady Fury.” Meg marches him back and spends the walk trying not to admire how nicely his shoulders have filled out. 

She doesn’t intend to strike up an actual friendship with him, but Zagreus is both relentless and incorrigible. He seeks her out when she’s resting in the lounge, sometimes with tall tales, sometimes with anecdotes. He even surprises her with a gift now and then- never anything of real consequence, but a book he managed to find that made him think of her, or, on an embarrassing occasion, a plush dog.  
“I made it myself.” He exclaims proudly. “Though I couldn’t figure out how to get all three heads on, so I’m sorry it’s a bit malformed.” Megaera holds the plush animal in her hands, wondering how they got here. She spends her days with murderers and thieves, oathbreakers and tyrants. The worst mankind has to offer. Maybe that’s why his insistent kindness surprises her at every turn.  
“Thank you.” She finally manages gruffly. His smile is as brilliant as diamonds. She looks away.  
“So, how goes your training with Achilles?” She asks after a moment. Zagreus  
sighs into his own drink, eyes downcast. He’s uncharacteristically silent.  
“Not going so well?” She prods. The young prince’s cheeks take on a pink hue, and after a moment Megeara realizes he’s blushing. The torturer’s instinct presses her to pick at any wound, but she quiets that part of her mind. Zagreus is a friend, she’s surprised to realize. Maybe her only friend in all the realms, other than Thanatos.  
“I…” Zagreus starts, and fidgets with the cushion on his chair, pulling a thread loose. “I may have asked him if he’d ever like to have drinks with me.” Zag explains.  
Hot jealousy spills through Megaera's gut. It feels like slurping down boiling liquid too quickly. She quiets the urge to find Achilles and challenge him to a duel. Highly inappropriate.  
“I think he’ll always see me as a child, even though I’m more than grown. He still calls me lad. Anyways, he sent me away for the day, said to go work on my form.” Zagreus sinks into his seat.  
“I always thought of him as a friend, but I suppose he’s just following father’s orders.” Zagreus turns his intense gaze on her, all too earnest and honest. Megaera can hardly bear to meet it.  
“Hey… we’re friends, right? No one’s told you that you’ve got to spend time with me?”  
Megaera takes a long sip of her drink and uses the pause to hide her desperate scramble for an answer. The only thing that comes to her is a deflection.  
“Don’t sound so desperate, Prince. I’m sure you have plenty of admirers.”  
Zagreus sighs and polishes off the goblet in front of him then refills it.  
“Honestly, not really. I love Mother Nyx, but she’s… inscrutable. She’s been alive so long, that I think she honestly struggles to remember what it’s like to want things now, not wait for them to happen over a thousand years. I like Hypnos well enough, but he’s always sleeping. Dusa’s terrified of me, runs whenever I enter a room. The shades are ever silent, ever servile. I suppose there’s always Cerberus, even if he can’t talk back. And Than. But Than is always busy.”  
“There’s always your father.” Megaera offers before she can stop herself. Even as the words come out, she knows that they’re meant to wound rather than help. She quietly chides herself. It’s not his fault she’s horribly jealous of Achilles right now.  
“Father hates me.” Zagreus answers quietly.  
Oh, damn him. So young, so vulnerable. Megaera places a hesitant hand on his shoulder.  
“No one has ordered me to spend time with you, Zagreus.” Megaera keeps her tone wry. “Though Olympus knows why I do it. Maybe I’m a masochist as well as a sadist.”  
It’s meant to be flippant, to get him to make a rude gesture at her or snipe back. Instead, he surprises her (When doesn't he?) and covers her own hand in one of his blisteringly warm ones. The palms are rough and calloused.  
“Thanks Meg.” He tells her quietly.  
It’s all too much.  
“I’ve got to go.” She says hurriedly, jerking away. “Duty calls.” She doesn’t look at him as she flees the lounge.  
“Meg! Wait, I’m sorry!” But her wing is far faster than his feet, and she’s back within the comforting bowels of Tartarus before he can make it to the door. 

Meg lets her work envelop her. Takes extra care to make certain the shades of the pit know agony. Mocks Ixions at his endless agony upon the wheel. Knocks the Danaides vases from their hands. Takes extra pleasure in beating Tityos. But it is Tantalus for whom she reserves the worst ire.  
“Murdered your only son.” She hisses in his ear. “You deserve worse. Be thankful for the gods’ mercy.” She rasps at him. Tantalus shudders and Megaera is delighted to really get to enjoy the thrill of hate that uncoils at the base of her spine. Some souls deserve punishment. In this, her work is just. She tells herself that she’s far too busy to go to the House. That the new influx of mortals from the war above must be broken to the ways of Tartarus. That the wicked must be brought to heel. Even Alecto comments on it. Mentions she’s finally learning to take real joy in her work. Megaera cracks her whip in her worst sister’s direction and storms off to her own corner of Tartarus.  
Thanatos finds her there, delivering the latest allotment of sinners.  
“You know, Zagreus keeps asking after you when I see him. He thinks he’s done something wrong.” The god of death mentions. Megaera can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. She scowls.  
“I’m just busy.” She answers. Thanatos doesn’t dignify her lie with an answer. 

“Alright, so I understand that I’m a hideous wretch, but are you really going to stop talking to me altogether? If I swear I wasn’t trying to come on to you, can we go back to being friends?”  
Megaera swears she must be going delusional. Up to her elbows in viscera, above the cries of mortals, she swears she could have heard Zagreus’ voice.  
“Megaera? I know you’re somewhere around here, the nice man with the boulder told me to head this way!”  
Zagreus hacks his way through the skeletal remains of two long-dead warriors who lunge at him as if they’re an afterthought.  
“Zagreus?” She finally asks, hardly believing her eyes.  
“Meg!” he bounds up to her, a cocksure grin sliding into place. Then he pauses several steps back, suddenly less sure of himself.  
“Lady Fury. I do apologize. It was never my intent to insult you with my affections. Can I make it up to you somehow?” He asks, over formal. Meg blinks.  
“What are you doing down here?” She finally asks. Zagreus sheaths the short sword he’s been carrying and clutches his hands awkwardly together.  
“Well, I was lonely. And I missed you. So… I came looking. To apologize, that is.”  
Meg stands in shadow, thankful for the dark of the pit. Damn him three times, this stupid boy and his honesty. Her mouth is hanging open like a fish and she can’t bring herself to close it.  
Too late, she sees the spear-wielding warrior behind him, throwing it’s pathetic form forwards. Too late. Zagreus looks down in surprise as his blood spills from the open wound in his chest, to drench his chiton. He stumbles and falls forward. His eyes are glassy before she even catches him.  
“NO!” She screams, enraged. In her hands, his blood is red. Mortal red. His normally over warm body is cool as stone. Moments later the Styx takes him, even his remains gone.  
She takes flight, racing back to the House, desperate, casting a prayer to Chaos, Night, long-dead Cronus, whoever could listen. Please. Please let him be there, silly smile, easy laugh. The flight there is dizzyingly fast.  
She lands in front of the pool of the Styx in the House.  
“Oh! Welcome back Megaera! You know, Achilles wanted to ask you about-” Hypnos begins, but she doesn’t hear the rest of it, as she tears off down the great hall. Then the lounge. Then the trophy room. Each is empty of what she’s seeking. Finally, she brings herself to a halt in front of his room and steals herself for the worst.  
When she enters, he’s sitting on the floor with his back against the bed, holding his head in his hands. Megaera feels her panic drain away, relief warming every bone in her body.  
“Zag.” She sighs. He looks up at her, something between fear and confusion on his face.  
“Meg?” he asks. “I don’t understand. I died, but then I came back? What happened?”  
“Cthonic gods.” She says, by way of explanation. “We do not die properly. We’re reborn in the pool of the Styx if we expire.”  
“Oh.” He eases his tense posture somewhat, leaning back against the bed.  
Meg can’t help herself. She crouches down to his level and reaches out, touching him. His skin is warm against her palm. And so soft. Megaera brushes a loose strand of hair from his forehead, where the blood of the Styx has plastered it against his skin.  
“Meg?” He asks softly. She meets his gaze. Tries to put words to it. I’ve been jealous of how you seem to feel about Achilles for a while now, and I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not even certain if this is ok, you’re so young and good and I’m a vicious, terrible thing. She gives up. Kisses him.  
It’s like putting a burning coal in her mouth. He is so, impossibly, warm. And statue still. Meg pulls back abruptly. This is beyond the bounds of acceptable. Completely forbidden.  
He grabs her like a drowning man clinging to driftwood in a stormy sea. His hands are as rough as she remembers them, gripping the front of her tunic and shoulder. He plants a messy, unpracticed kiss on her lips, then another on her cheek and neck. His enthusiasm rolls them backward and he lands on her, hard, knocking the wind out of her.  
“Easy there.” She steadies him, cupping his face in her hands. He looks down at her  
desperately, big innocent eyes bewilderment.  
“I… I’m so confused.” he offers. “I didn’t think you were at all interested in me.”  
Megaera snorts inelegantly and lays soft kisses against his brown, then his cheek, and finally a slow, steady one against his mouth. He follows along eagerly.  
“Less tongue.” She pulls away after a moment. “And go more slowly. A kiss isn’t about mashing your mouth against the other persons as hard as you can.”  
“I haven’t done this before,” he says, by way of explanation. Meg cards her fingers through his hair. That makes sense. Whom would he have had to practice with? There aren’t exactly a host of young maides and frolicking youths about the House.  
“I’ll teach you.” She offers. And then frowns, Grips his shoulders roughly, and flips them over, so that she’s sitting atop his hips. If there’d been any question of his interest, it’s quickly abated.  
“If” She hisses “you swear never to endanger yourself that again!” She shakes him for good measure. Zagreus gently plucks one of her hands from its death grip on her shoulders and nibbles lightly at her fingertips. She suppresses a shudder. He’s a quick study.  
“I swear,” he answers seriously. She kisses him again.  
“Alright then.” She breaths against his mouth. “Come. Sit on the bed. I’m not teaching you how to kiss on the floor.” 

When he breaks his promise to her, she’ll never tell him that he breaks her heart too.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to make it pretty clear that Megaera doesn't really take an interest in him until he's an adult, as I find the alternative to be REALLY CREEPY. If this wins a Pulitzer and a publishing contract with Penguin I'll bother editing the follow up of the emotional blow out.


End file.
